


Congratulations, Mueller!

by spicyarnor



Series: The Prince And His Bodyguard [1]
Category: Trails of Cold Steel, 英雄伝説 閃の軌跡 | The Legend of Heroes: Sen no kiseki (Video Games)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyarnor/pseuds/spicyarnor
Summary: A second-year student at Thors with some new responsibilities, Mueller walks into the clubroom for his morning practice to find quite the surprise...





	Congratulations, Mueller!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place when Mueller is 18 and Olivier is 15. What we know from canon indicates Olivier was roughly 19-20 when he attended Thors, which is honestly kind of hilarious but also very sad. Poor man. I make a few assumptions here and who knows, maybe future Trails entries will tear this fic to pieces, but I don't mind. Anyway, I felt like writing something a bit more lighthearted and this happened. Enjoy!
> 
> NOTE: Some pretty vague references are made to Olivier's backstory (and I guess a little of Mueller's as well), but they are pretty vague, so...

Mueller sighed, staring at the floor of Thors' fencing club room. Rose petals were absolutely everywhere. An enormous bouquet of red, pink and white roses with a giant purple silk ribbon and an ostentatious gold-embossed card reading "Congratulations on becoming Fencing Club Captain" with a pink heart at the end sat on a marble pedestal in the center of the room. 

"It was like this when I got here," Neithardt explained, looking perplexed. "Do you have any idea who..."

"Oh, yes," Mueller grimaced, "I'm afraid I know exactly who is responsible for this."

The blonde boy seemed to understand, but also looked a bit skeptical. Neithardt always was, when he told him stories about the prince. He hadn't met him. He didn't know. "It can't be--"

"It can and I'm certain it is. This is _exactly_ something that idiot would do." He sighed, exasperated. "I have to go hunt him down. Do you think you can clean up this mess for me before anyone else gets here?" He hung his head, embarrassed. "Please?"

Neithardt sighed. "Yeah, alright. I'll take care of it."

"I owe you one," Mueller called, dashing from the room.

Where would that dumbass have gone? He looked towards the front door but then after quickly remembering the prince's fondness for barely clothed people, made a dash into the swimming area, where a few club members were preparing for their morning practice, doing stretches by the side of the pool. No prince in sight.

"Have you seen a blonde guy out of uniform? About this tall, makes your head hurt?"

The swim club captain shook his head, looking confused. "No-"

"Great thanks gotta run," Mueller responded quickly, running out of the room then the building.

It being the weekend, campus was fairly empty today. It was overcast too and expected to rain, so most students had holed themselves up inside somewhere if they weren't taking the opportunity to sleep in. Mueller only assumed this was how the prince got all the way in with all that stuff in the first place without making a commotion.

He scanned the courtyard, not even a hint of anyone. He doubted the prince had lingered in any old school building, but maybe he'd gone to check out the auditorium? No, the doors were bolted shut, and a quick look through the windows confirmed that nobody was on stage. Mueller cursed under his breath, then made his way towards the campus gate.

"Hey, Captain! What are you running around for?" One of his classmates from Class I, and a first-year member of the Fencing Club, called out to him, a tall, curvy girl with an exceptional pout that hilariously kept throwing Neithardt off in practice.

"Not now," he shook his head, waving dismissively and breaking into a jog. "I'll explain later."

"Oh you'd better!" she called after him.

Aidios, what a pain. Where _was_ that idiot? Mueller was off duty while he was in school, but he couldn't very well just let the prince get away with running around Trista causing chaos when he was probably supposed to be home in the palace. The fact that he'd now have to explain himself (and, unfortunately, the prince) to multiple people after this only made him want to find the fool that much faster.

Searching, he made his way to the flower shop, and stopped in front of its owner, bending with hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Good morning," he said between breaths. "Have you seen the guy who bought an enormous bouquet of roses from you earlier anywhere?"

The shop owner looked at him in amusement. "Yes, he went over to Kirsche's not too long ago. Is he a friend of yours?"

"Something like that. Thanks," he muttered, then took off towards the cafe, ignoring the giggle from the florist as he left.

Kirsche's was packed, especially considering the early hour; however anyone with eyes or even just ears would have spotted the prince as soon as they walked in the door, and Mueller was certainly no exception.

The prince sat on a wooden stool in the corner, in a long white coat and vest, playing an absolutely gorgeous lute tune and singing some love song with ridiculous lyrics. It wasn't Amber Amour for once. Perhaps he'd wanted some variety.

People had pulled out chairs to sit around him, students drinking soda and a couple of adults even nursing drinks for some reason despite the early hour. He was the complete center of attention, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. Mueller's scowl deepened.

He walked over to a classmate who was watching from the back. "Hey, what's this about?"

"Dunno, that guy just came in here and started killing it."

He sighed in relief. So his cover probably wasn't blown yet. "Alright, thanks," he said, then began to push his way to the front of the crowd.

He stood there, arms folded, directly in front of the prince and only a few feet away.

"My dearest love, your heart is the eternity I yearn for," Olivier sang passionately, eyes on his lute strings, completely into the performance. "Oh, my darling--" He looked up to face the audience with the most idiotic expression, met Mueller's flat stare and froze, lute melody petering out as his fingers fumbled. "M-Mueller?"

"That's right, that's it, show's over," Mueller announced, grabbing Olivier by the arm and dragging him off through the crowd.

"H-hey, wait!" The prince whined, only walking as fast as Mueller could drag him. Mueller opened the door and towed the struggling boy outside. "I came here to congratulate you! Did you not see my humble display of affection?"

"Oh yes, I saw it alright," Mueller said, dragging him behind the building and releasing him, but blocking the only exit. "What the hell were you thinking? Did you honestly think I would like that?"

"I--" Olivier cut off, looking at him with large, disappointed eyes. Oh for heaven's sake.

"No, Olivier," the brunette continued firmly, "In case it wasn't clear, I did not like that. I mean, thanks for the congratulations I guess, but could you maybe have just said it in a normal way without the public embarrassment and a huge mess to clean up?"

"I'm sorry," the prince said, visibly shrinking with shame. Mueller let out a hard breath.

"Nobody saw it," he said, not really counting Neithardt, who knew about the prince's antics anyway. "But I'm taking you back to the palace."

Olivier bowed his head. "Okay," he agreed, looking very guilty. Well, that was a good sign probably, but it still didn't feel great. Mueller made himself ignore it anyway.

The train compartment they boarded to the capital was empty save for them, and the prince slumped against the window as soon as he sat down. Mueller sighed as he took his seat across from him, feeling a bit of sympathy, though he wasn't sure why. It was just difficult to see Olivier looking honestly sad about something for some reason. He chalked it up to bad memories.

"Look, your father has to let you attend the academy eventually," he said in a softer voice, trying to be consoling. "Running off like this probably isn't doing you any favors, though."

"I know," the prince groaned, flattening further against the glass. "But you don't understand, Mueller. It's so hard being stuck in the palace all the time, day after day. Out here, I'm free! You saw how everyone in that cafe appreciated me! I didn't..." Looking far too tired for his young age, he trailed off with a sigh, knowing it was simply an old, helpless complaint, "I didn't ask for this."

"I know," Mueller grimaced. Whatever they'd both had to say about that had been said a long time ago. "I doubt a fifteen year old commoner would be allowed to run off to another city without telling his parents either, though," he felt compelled to point out.

" _Mueller_ ," he whined, throwing his head back, "when you were my age you were traveling to meet your uncle at military outposts, all by yourself."

"I'm not a commoner," he shrugged, "and more importantly, Father sent me himself, and I was armed and could defend myself well besides. What were you going to do if you ran into trouble, club your assailant with your lute?"

Olivier looked absolutely horrified, clutching the instrument tightly to his chest. Mueller rolled his eyes.

"My point exactly."

"Don't listen to that scary man," the prince soothed, stroking the neck of his lute gently with one hand and looking at it with concern. "I would much sooner be captured and held for ransom than treat you in such a brutish way."

"See, now that's the problem," Mueller rolled his eyes again. "Also, if you keep talking to inanimate objects, everyone will know that you're insane."

"My lute is not an inanimate object," Olivier huffed, indignant. "She has a beautiful voice with which to sing exquisite melodies."

Mueller sighed. "Well, at least you don't deny your insanity."

The prince let out a long breath, then set his lute gently next to him on his seat. "And to think I came all this way here out of a heartfelt desire to see my dearest friend," he sighed, shaking his head. "Only to be callously mocked. Oh, yet another tragedy befalls me this day..."

"Olivier," Mueller frowned, expression softening, "you do realize that if you really want to see me, you can, you know... call and set that up?"

Olivier blinked, purple eyes wide. "I can?"

"Yes," he said, shaking his head. "I can manage a visit every now and then. Provided you actually let me plan for it. Just _don't do this_ ," he added with a slow deadpan stare.

"Mueller," the prince swooned, placing a hand over his heart. Oh for heaven's sake. "So you do care for me after all."

"Don't make me change my mind," Mueller warned, shaking his head and looking out the window. Rain had finally begun to fall, streaks of water running along the window's glass with the speed of the moving train.

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," Olivier said with a smile that Mueller didn't exactly trust. Well, that was what being friends with this idiot was, after all. Unexpected, risky and far too much trouble from start to finish. But, well, it was far preferable to see a dangerous smile on the boy's face than that tired, resigned look from earlier. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he was, if the prince wasn't generally happy it always seemed to weigh too much on Mueller's mind.

"Well, whatever," he muttered, "I guess I was about overdue for a trip home anyway."

"Take me with you?" Olivier begged. "I can't go straight back to the palace, please, I _can't_."

"Oh? So you'd like my stepmother to drag you back there instead? She won't be happy to hear what nonsense you've got me caught up in today. I assure you, she won't be gentle."

"I-" The prince hesitated, then a look of resigned dread set in. So he _did_ know that there were some things he should fear. "N-no, that's quite fine then, just take me home."

"Good call," Mueller nodded, relaxing back into his seat, hands behind his head.

\---

Olivier sighed and stared out the window, accepting his fate. Today was a disappointment. Well, no, up until he'd been caught and dragged away it had been quite exciting, but honestly... He'd just wanted to leave a nice, heartfelt surprise for Mueller. If Mueller had left _him_ roses, Olivier's heart itself would blossom into a thousand times as many joyous blooms, so he'd thought that of course it would make Mueller happy.

But, no. He'd somehow managed to embarrass his dear, dear friend and now he was getting dragged straight back home where he didn't want to be. He sighed again, slumping against the cool glass once more. He felt guilty and sad and unappreciated. If only he could just grow up already, go out into the world, make friends and have a real life. When would his father see reason? Plenty of students started at Thors at 15, 16, 17... Yet the emperor insisted that Olivier be properly educated in court etiquette to the point that he was a flawless example of proper royalty before he attend, and it was... vexing. Not who he was. Going through the motions and learning the mannerisms was easy enough, but sticking with them in daily life? Did he honestly expect Olivier, raised as a carefree commoner, to become someone who would always act calm, composed, and noble? Didn't he remember who exactly his mother was?

He frowned, mind freezing up at the thought, numbing itself as a ward against the pain.

"Olivier," Mueller's voice came, calling him out of his thoughts to look up and meet the older boy's eyes. 

The sound of bells drowned out whatever he was going to say, though, as the train began slowing through the subway tunnel entering the city, and a voice over the intercom announced that they had reached their destination.

Mueller stood as the train came to a stop, and Olivier joined him, slumping his shoulders and following close behind, lute in hand, as they disembarked and left the station.

Once in the square, Mueller stopped abruptly and turned to him. "Do you want to walk?"

Olivier blinked. He'd fully expected to take a taxi to the palace, as this sort of forced homecoming usually went. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Mueller shrugged, "I _am _Fencing Club Captain after all." He began walking down the thoroughfare, and Olivier quickly fell into stride with him, grinning.__

__"Mueller!" he exclaimed, nudging his arm playfully with his shoulder. "That's an awful lot of boasting, coming from you."_ _

__"It was a joke," the brunette said, rolling his eyes. "But it's not like we haven't done this before."_ _

__"True," Olivier agreed, happily walking alongside him. They had of course gone on many incognito outings into the city together as part of Mueller's bodyguard training - though, Mueller had pointed out various royal guards in simple officers' uniforms who kept far away to observe them on many of these occasions. Being totally alone with only Mueller as his real protection felt strangely exhilarating for some reason. But on top of that... he certainly wasn't expecting Mueller to want to spend more time with him today after how upset he'd been._ _

__It was all he could do to keep himself from sighing. Maybe it was love?_ _

__"It's just... we've never done this _alone_ before."_ _

__"You came all the way to Trista on your own, I'm sure a quick walk to the palace with me will be fine," he reassured him, nudging the sword sheathed at his hip. "I can protect you."_ _

__Olivier's poor young heart fluttered, and he beamed up at Mueller, starry-eyed. Oh, how wonderful those words were... coming from his dearest most handsome friend, looking extremely sharp in the crisp white, purple and gold of his Thors uniform. Lately he had felt sad, like Mueller was growing older and leaving him behind, but all of that was completely swept away with his declaration._ _

__"Oh Mueller," he sighed happily, walking a bit closer to his side, "What would I ever do without you?"_ _

__"I don't know, but the thought rightly terrifies me," the brunette said, shaking his head. "I don't think the world will ever be ready for the kind of chaos you would undoubtedly unleash in the 48 hours before you get yourself killed."_ _

__"Cruel! Just cruel," Olivier complained, trying to pout but still swooning on the inside. "You underestimate me, my dear Mueller."_ _

__"Fine, the _universe _will never be ready."___ _

____"Your cruelty knows no end," he whined, still smiling._ _ _ _

____This was nice. It was so nice._ _ _ _

____He glanced up at Mueller, whose posture was alert but relaxed, keeping his eyes out for danger but clearly enjoying Olivier's company._ _ _ _

____Oh, yes -- this day wasn't a disappointment after all, he thought to himself, walking alongside him with a contented smile. Being by Mueller's side like this was really all he needed._ _ _ _

____-_ _ _ _

____Alas, all good things ending as they do, they soon reached Dreichels Plaza, which was starting to have a few people trickle in on their midmorning work break._ _ _ _

____Olivier sighed. "Home already," he lamented, shaking his head dejectedly._ _ _ _

____"Well..." Mueller considered, glancing around them, frowning as if contemplating something. "I haven't had breakfast yet. Maybe we can get... I don't know... A crepe or something first?"_ _ _ _

____\---_ _ _ _

____Mueller wasn't quite sure if he would ultimately regret this or not, but the overjoyed look on Olivier's face as he completely perked up was worth it._ _ _ _

____"If- if you insist," he said, trying to look a bit less excited than he clearly was. It wasn't working. That dork._ _ _ _

____"You have to buy your own, though," he muttered, walking towards the crepe stand. The prince followed excitedly._ _ _ _

____"But of course," he agreed._ _ _ _

____\---_ _ _ _

____A few minutes later, the two of them were sitting on a nearby bench, eating their crepes together. Mueller had gotten a chocolate crepe stuffed with some kind of dark chocolate creme, nuts and bananas - he did always seem to prefer his desserts with a touch of bitterness. Olivier had picked something light and sweet with red berry syrup, white chocolate shavings and fresh strawberries and cream - oh, it was heavenly, but sitting next to Mueller as he ate made it all the sweeter._ _ _ _

____It was always so nice and comfortable being by his side. He felt so safe in his presence, but also like his heart just couldn't stop dancing. Ever since the boy had gone away to school it had just been getting worse each time they met, he knew it, but what could he do to help it? Mueller was _wonderful._ Completely out of his reach, and probably still seeing him as a child, but well, that would surely change someday, right? Until then, he would push his fantasies aside as best he could when they were together and simply enjoy being with him._ _ _ _

____"What's it like," he asked after licking a bit of whipped cream out of the corner of his mouth, "your life at the academy?"_ _ _ _

____Mueller swallowed his bite, lowering his crepe a bit, thoughtful. "It's kind of hard to explain. But, well, it's nice. Busy. Lots to do constantly. Now that I'm a second year I've settled in to a rhythm, but more people are relying on me. It's good, though. I know I'm learning a lot, and not just about orbal science." He paused, then groaned. "The other club members are going to give me so much shit for ditching practice today."_ _ _ _

____"I'm sorry," Olivier sighed, looking down at his feet._ _ _ _

____"No, no it's fine," Mueller assured him, patting him on the shoulder. He looked up at him with the touch. "We've been over this. ...Honestly, I get where your father is coming from but I think attending the academy would really do you some good."_ _ _ _

____"Thanks," the prince said, half-smiling with a shrug, then going back to his crepe._ _ _ _

____"Really. I'm on your side here," Mueller continued before taking another bite. Oh, he was being so _nice. _Sweeter even than this sugared strawberry. "Keep at your studies. He'll have to let you go eventually." He paused, thoughtful. "I think he's just afraid that you'll..."___ _ _ _

______"…I know," Olivier said, sighing again. Yes, it was obvious, his father did not want his child to repeat his own past mistakes. Still, it felt unfair, and a bit like a knife twisting in his gut. But it was so good to know that Mueller was on his side. "Thank you, Mueller. You're being so kind," he added, touching his arm and looking hopefully up at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______Mueller sort of grimaced, furrowing his brow and glancing away slightly. "Not really," he muttered, taking another bite of his crepe._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Ah... _truly, what a wonderful friend. Olivier smiled, and the two of them finished their crepes together in blissful silence, the prince fully enjoying every moment of it.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I'm too easy on that idiot," Mueller groaned, slumped against his desk. Neithardt had come over to his room to study again, and had pulled up a chair beside him. "I should have just dragged him straight home."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Well," Neithardt said, thoughtful, "He _is_ your friend. Somehow. Honestly, after today, I'm not sure how you do it, exactly."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mueller shook his head. "Yeah. I'm really sorry you had to see all that," he apologized, turning to look at him. "I really do owe you one."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Yes, you do," the blonde agreed with a polite inclination of his head. "Although I suppose after I take your title in a fair fight next weekend, you might feel a bit less inclined to do me any favors."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Hah," Mueller scoffed, wearing a cocky grin. "You're on, but if you think I'll be handing over an easy victory out of gratitude you're sure in for a surprise."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I would be insulted by anything less than your best," Neithardt said, raising his eyebrows. "I suppose you can do cleaning duty for me for the rest of the week?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mueller sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah... yeah, I can do that. That's a steep price, though, sheesh."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I had to dispose of all those flowers before anyone else got there, without being seen," the blonde explained, looking completely unimpressed. "Do you know how close I came to having one of the first years walk in on me sweeping up a pile of rose petals? I had to lock the door and sneak out the _window _."___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"…Okay, fair enough," Mueller agreed, reluctantly. He did have a point. Boy, was he grateful to have Neithardt on his side._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The blonde shuffled, reaching a hand into his inner coat pocket and pulling out an envelope. "I left you a present," he said with a slight smile, handing it to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Mueller opened it. It was the card the prince had left him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________'Congratulations on becoming Fencing Club Captain,' it read in calligraphed gold script. He grimaced, turning it over. A more personal message was written in Olivier's graceful ink lettering. 'I'm so glad life at Thors is treating you so well. Please, enjoy these flowers, a humble offering of my appreciation for all you do. All my love, your dearest friend, Olivier.'_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Mueller stared at it, narrowing his eyes, slightly warm with embarrassment. He looked back at Neithardt, who had raised his eyebrows in a sly, teasing smirk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Aidios above... He really _was_ too easy on that idiot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
